To Pass the Time in my Room Alone
by sleepyblaine
Summary: **SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING!** Blaine sees it as the only way to escape, to get away from that other, much more real pain. Will he go to far? Self-harming AU, rated M for adult themes and later chapters. R&R
1. Blood Puddles

_**SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING! LIKE I MEAN IT! I WAS ALMOST TOO SCARED TO WRITE THIS BECAUSE OF HOW BIG THE WARNINGS ARE!**_

Blaine didn't mean to do it that hard. He didn't mean to do it that deep. He didn't mean for blood to spill out of the cut and onto his mother's nice clean floor. He didn't mean to drop the blade in the sink, where it _clink! Clink! Clink!_-ed and fell down the drain.

But he did mean for there to be pain, and that's what he got. He tried not to scream as more blood pulsed out, down his hand, dripping off the end of his middle finger onto the floor, into the sink, onto his clean white shirt. He didn't mean for this to happen. But it did.

He didn't realize until the ground was right next to his face that he'd fallen, and that was when his vision started to blur, to fuzz around the edges, like a bad horror movie or someone had dropped a camera in the pool. He was only just aware of the red puddles on the floor, seeping between the shallow cracks in the tiles, creating a criss-crossed dark red river on the bathroom floor.

There were footsteps and Blaine saw his brother's face, plastered in panic, leaning over him. Cooper was shaking his shoulders, frantically crying his name over and over, pushing flimsy toilet paper to the gash on his wrist to no avail.

"Mom!" Cooper cried. "Mom, dad! Help!"

The last thing Blaine saw was Cooper's face, tear-streaked, gnawing on his bottom lip, helpless, powerless. Then everything went black.

Xxxxxxxx

"Please wake up," someone whispered.

Blaine tried to open his eyes, but something wouldn't let him. It was like his eyelids had been stapled shut; he did everything in his power to force them open, but they wouldn't co-operate.

"Please wake up," that someone whispered again.

Blaine tried to move his hand to his face, find out what was preventing him from opening his eyes, but a shooting pain then went all the way up his arm and back down stopped him. He sucked a breath in through his teeth.

"Please… please, wake up," the person whispered.

Blaine started to panic. He was aware of an obnoxious beeping noise in the back of his mind that was beginning to get annoying. It was getting faster, louder, boring into his brain like a woodpecker. It was loud, and it stung.

"Blaine…"

He tried to respond, to open his mouth and say something, anything to let that person know he was alive and yes, he could hear them! But he was stuck, glued to the table, paralysed by something yet every single nerve ending in his body was tingling.

"Blaine!"

_Make it stop, make it stop, _was all the boy could think as the beeping turned into one, long, piercing wail. Then suddenly there were voices inside his head, shouting, giving orders, though not to him. It was as if he was invisible.

"Help him, please! What's happening?" the voice, now hysterical, screamed. It was a male's voice; distressed, broken, tired. Absolutely terrified.

"Cooper-" someone else said. It was a different, less recognizable voice. Cooper! Why did that name sound so familiar?

"Mom, dad, somebody, help him!"

Why was he screaming? Why were the people in his head shouting? What was a defibrillator? And why couldn't he open his eyes?

"Clear!" someone said, and then there was a jolt that lifted Blaine's whole body off the table. _Hey! _he wanted to shout. _That hurt!_

The wailing turned into a screech and _why did they not shut it off? _Then the other voice said, "Clear!" again and there was another jolt and someone said, "We have a pulse!" triumphantly. The noise dulled down to a slow beeping again and the voices inside his head quietened. He coughed.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Cooper. It was Cooper who was screaming, who sounded so distressed, and when Blaine saw his face, he knew why. The bags under his brother's eyes weren't bags, they were suitcases, and his eyes were red and swollen from crying. At one point he might have actually bitten his lip so hard it started to bleed and the outside had scabbed over, leaving a tiny dark-red mark just under his lip. His hair was mussed and dirty, shirt creased, and stubble graced his chin and jawbone.

It was the face of a man who'd been sitting in a hospital room for far too long.

"…Blaine?" he whispered. Blaine frowned, and coughed again.

"C-Co…" he tried, but his throat was dry.

"Water," a lady said from behind Cooper, and then she handed him a white plastic cup. Cooper looked at it like he'd never seen water before. Blaine coughed, and he snapped out of it, bringing the cup to Blaine's lips.

Blaine didn't realize how thirsty he was until now. He drank and drank, a little too fast, and ended up coughing half of it back up. He felt the back of the bed lifting up.

"What's going on?" he managed to ask. A new wave of tears filled his brother's eyes.

"You're in hospital, Blaine," the woman behind Cooper said, and she gently pushed him aside and stepped forward. "You had an… accident. Don't you remember anything?"

Blaine tried, he really did, to remember why he was here and why his hand hurt so much. His eyes flickered down to his left hand, where the throbbing sensation that was working its way up his arm and found it bandaged from the elbow to his hand. Only his thumb and the top of his fingers were visible.

Then it all came rushing back. School. Those boys. The names. The taunting. The death threats. The brick wall. The ringleader's fist. The blade. The blood. The floor. Cooper's face…

"I c-cut myself," he said, defeated. The nurse nodded solemnly.

"Why, Blaine?" Cooper said hoarsely. The nurse shook her head.

"Not now," she said. "Let him rest. Mr Anderson, why don't you go take a shower and freshen up? There's a bathroom just down the hall and-"

"No," said Cooper, and it was easy to tell he was trying to be firm but the tears streaming down his cheeks made him look so much weaker than he was trying to be. "I'm staying with Blaine."

The nurse sighed. "Your mother told me you were very protective of him. Oh well, a doctor's coming in soon to ask Blaine a few questions; you can help him out," she said. "Speaking of your parents, where are they?"

"Who knows?" Cooper replied, voice laced with venom. The nurse nodded abruptly and hurried out of the room. Cooper turned to Blaine, who tried to avoid his gaze.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," Cooper said when she was gone, but his voice cracked. He fell into the chair at Blaine's bedside and hung his head in his hands, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, and to be honest, he still wasn't fully orientated. Cooper looked up at him through his fingers.

"Why?" he asked. Blaine looked down and fumbled with a loose thread on the scratchy, uncomfortable hospital blankets. Cooper sighed.

"Never mind, we'll talk about that later," he said, taking Blaine's good hand. "What matters now is that you're okay."

"Aren't you going to text mom and dad?" Blaine mumbled, unable to look his brother in the eye.

Cooper laughed once, but it was flat and dead. "They'll be here when they get here," he said, quoting their dad.

"What… what happened just then?" Blaine asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"You went into a cardiac arrest," Cooper replied. "When you… cut your wrist, you lost a lot of blood. They put you on a drip but it wasn't enough. Your heart was failing."

It was only then that Blaine noticed the tubes sticking out from under the bandages. They went all the way to the floor and then up, connecting to a machine next to him and to the bag of blood hanging off a metal rack above his head. He tried to move his fingers and the pain shot up again, and he came to a realization; needles. The colour drained from his face.

"Needles," he choked out. Cooper nodded.

"They had to," he said. Blaine swallowed. Cooper squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said again. Cooper shook his head.

"It's okay," he said. "It's okay." He rested his head on Blaine's hand and Blaine rested his head back against the rock-hard pillows behind his head. It most certainly was not okay.

Xxxxxxxx

_A/N; Here's the deal – if you review, I'll write more. Let's say… seven, just because I'm feeling creative. Seven reviews and I'll write a second chapter; until then, it stays a random, irrelevant cliffhanger. Kurt obviously has to come into it somehow, so that'll be in later chapters and it's up to YOU if I write it or not! So go review, tell me what you think, and we'll see where it goes from there. :)_


	2. Curiouser and curiouser

_Disclaimer; I don't own Glee or any of the characters, FOX does. I didn't do this last time because I was too busy making sure you guys knew about the trigger warnings and stuff :D_

_Chapter title is a quote from Alice in Wonderland, if you didn't know._

_Also, this __is__ a Klaine story. Just bear with me._

Xxxxxxxx

Blaine was crying.

It was the summer of his first year of middle school, a sweaty day, and he'd just gotten home from school. He wasn't crying hard; just sniffling, because those stupid boys at school were picking on him again.

He'd known he was gay for about a year now, and he so badly wanted to tell someone, but each time he was close to coming out those boys would call him names, faggot or homo or queer, and he'd cower back into the corner of the closet and decide that a few more weeks in there wouldn't hurt.

He got inside and headed straight for the stairs to his room. It was only four; a couple hours of guitar practise before dinner, homework and bed sounded perfect right now. He trudged up the stairs, called out hey to his brother, went into his room, dropped his bag and went straight to his guitar. It was beautiful – beachy-blonde coloured wood with a mahogany outline, and all steel strings. Cooper bought it for him when he was ten and showed an interest for music. Four years later, he was in the process of writing a song.

He'd only been sitting on his bed playing for half an hour or so when he heard the front door slam forcefully. His face paled. His dad was home, and he sounded drunk.

A loud shout confirmed his suspicions. "_Cooper! Blaine! What is this mess in the basin?"_

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut. The dishes! He was supposed to do them before his parents got home.

Cooper arrived at his door, eyes wide and frantic. Blaine threw his guitar down on the bed and ran to him. Cooper held his finger to his brother's lips and shook his head.

"_I asked you two a question!" _their dad slurred, and then there was the sound of hard leather boots on the stairs. Cooper swore under his breath and pulled open the linen closet door, which was right next to Blaine's room. He stuffed his younger brother into it, quietly hissed "Shh!" and closed the door.

It was dark. Blaine was never a huge fan of the dark. Still, he was more scared of his drunken father, so he stayed where he was. He pressed his ear lightly to the door to try and hear what was going on, but it was muffled. But he could make out screaming – it was his dad's voice, and it sounded mean. Angry. Furious, even. Blaine's heart went out to his brother who was down there taking the full blow of that, and numerous times Blaine considered defying his brother, going down there and taking the blame, but he was honestly too scared.

This went on for hours. He wished he'd brought his phone so he could keep track of the time, or call his mom for help, but it was in his bag in his room. So he sat in the dark, surrounded by the smell of damp, and waited.

Sometime later, the screaming stopped. Blaine had almost fallen asleep, propped up against the closet wall, when everything was silent. He blinked a few times, and contemplated whether to open the door and peek outside or stay put until Cooper came to get him.

But after waiting a few minutes for his big brother's footsteps, they never came. Blaine took a deep breath, and nudged the door gently. It'd been loose on its hinges for years, and it swung open slowly, and thankfully, quietly. Blaine crawled out on his hands and knees and stood up, brushing his pants free of the dust that had settled in the closet. He closed the door with almost no sound and tiptoed to the banister.

If he leaned over the railing he could see the whole living room; the TV, the coffee table, mom's favourite chair, and the futon, which was currently occupied by his dad, who was sprawled out along the whole length of it. He was snoring loudly and he had a brown paper bag with a bottle inside it clutched between his fingers.

Blaine sighed, and then startled, because there was a loud clash from the upstairs bathroom that the two boys' shared. Blaine's eyes flickered to his dad again, who hadn't moved. Then, he quietly made his way to the bathroom door.

Cooper was there, in front of the mirror, dabbing at a cut on his forehead over his right eyebrow. He winced as the disinfectant touched it, and cussed quietly. Then he noticed Blaine at the door.

"Did he hit you?" Blaine asked. Cooper nodded and went back to cleaning the gash. Blaine leaned against the doorframe. "I'm s-"

"Don't," Cooper said, throwing the Dettol-soaked toilet paper into the basin. "It's fine. Just… go to bed, B."

Blaine sighed and turned away from the bathroom, making a beeline for his room. His clock read nine-thirty, so he got into his pyjamas, brushed his teeth and got his bed ready.

But when he went to close his door, he forgot that he'd left the window open that morning before school. He tapped the door with his foot…

…and it slammed shut, so hard the window shook. Blaine's eyes widened. _No!_

"_Blaine!" _he heard from downstairs. Panicking, he dived into bed and pulled the covers up over his head. It was pitch-dark, and he was shaking, and he could hear his dad storming up the stairs, stumbling and falling into the wall, the footsteps coming closer, and the huge bang as his father's fists hit his bedroom door…

Blaine awoke with a jump. The hospital room was dark, and the lights outside the room were dimmed, so his guess was that it was late. He panted hard, and squeezed his eyes shut, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his good hand.

Then he noticed Cooper's alert eyes, staring up at him from where he was slumped over the side of the bed, half-on the chair that was provided. He looked like he just woke up, too.

"You okay, buddy?" he whispered. Blaine swallowed and nodded. Cooper took his good hand and squeezed it. "Bad dream?"

"Just the usual," Blaine mumbled. He tried to make out the time on the clock on the wall opposite him, but it was too dark. "What time is it?"

"About three-thirty," Cooper said.

"Where's mom?"

"She went home."

"Oh." Blaine remembered his mom was there before, just to fill out some notes for the doctor that only a parent could do. Then she kissed Blaine's forehead and left.

"I'm not leaving," Cooper reassured him. "It's okay."

Blaine felt bad. "What about work? What about Maria?"

"I told my boss I had to be with you until you got better and Maria understands. She said she might come visit you in the next couple days." Maria was Cooper's girlfriend, and she adored Blaine.

"And my headmaster?" Blaine asked, suddenly thinking about his schooling. What about the Warblers? Sectionals were coming up soon, and their competition was good – a group from Lima, the New Directions, Wes had said – and they needed him to practise.

"Dad spoke to him," Cooper said quietly. "It's all sorted out."

Blaine had a sneaking suspicion that 'all sorted out' didn't mean anything good at all.

Xxxxxxxx

Blaine didn't get back to sleep. He'd learned to use the remote control that worked his electronic bed, and so he sat himself up and watched the sun rise through the open blinds of the window. Cooper slept, though, and didn't wake up until a nurse came in to give Blaine his breakfast at nine.

"I'm not hungry," Blaine said politely. The nurse gave him a disapproving look.

"You've been in here three days and you haven't eaten anything, Blaine," she said. Blaine shrugged.

"Eat, Blaine," Cooper mumbled, even though his eyes were closed and the top half of his body was resting on the bed. Blaine brushed him off.

"Maybe lunch," he said, smiling weakly. The nurse rolled her eyes and wheeled the tray away, muttering something inaudible under her breath.

"Why must you be so stubborn?" Cooper asked, sitting up and stretching. A few bones in his back cracked and he winced.

"I get it from my big brother," Blaine replied coolly. Cooper scoffed.

"I am not stubborn," he said. Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Go home, then," he said. Cooper shook his head. "No way."

Blaine smirked.

Cooper's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and pressed the 'answer' button. "Hello?"

"_Hey_," a voice said on the other line. Blaine could hear it – it was Maria.

"Hey there," Cooper said, smiling. Blaine marvelled the way that Maria could make his brother smile with one word.

"_How's Blaine?_" she asked immediately. Cooper glanced at him.

"He's, uh, getting better," he replied. "Still a bit weak. Not ready to go home yet, but we're getting there."

"_Good,_" Maria said. "_And you?_"

"Sleeping on a hospital chair isn't the greatest, but I'm here for Blaine and that's all that matters."

"_You're such a good brother._"

"I know." Cooper gestured to Blaine that he was going outside, and Blaine nodded. Cooper got up and left the room. Blaine heard him greet someone outside. A few seconds later, Wes walked in. Blaine's eyes lit up.

"Hey!" he said. Wes smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hello, Blaine."

Blaine's smile faded a little and he looked down. "Guess you're not so proud of me, huh?"

Wes sat down in the chair that Cooper previously occupied and crossed his arms. "Not particularly, no."

"Look, Wes, I know Sectionals is coming up-"

"We're not worried about Sectionals," Wes said. "Sectionals- they mean nothing. What we're worried about is your safety and we're all curious as to why the hell you did what you did."

Blaine flinched – Wes's tone wasn't mean, or even angry. It was mostly confused. Blaine didn't want to relive what had happened a couple of days ago, but he owed it to his friend.

_A/N; Okay, so I got 4 reviews which is better than none I guess. But they were all positive, so that's why I decided to post this next chapter. Sorry to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but I promise I'll tell what happened with Blaine next chapter :) for now, though, review! I love hearing your feedback and constructive criticism is my favourite :3 _


	3. Tell me

He shouldn't have gone to school angry.

It wasn't his fault. If his stupid father hadn't opened his mouth and said the things he did, Blaine would be fine.

He should've listened to Cooper; he should've just stayed home. Worked on his music or something. It was only the middle of the second semester of his freshman year – he wasn't missing much.

Instead, he'd begged his brother to drive him to school and, after much pleading, Cooper agreed. Blaine should've left the door open when he'd gotten out of the car at the front of the school – he should've listened to what Cooper was saying. "_Have a good day, Blaine, and I love you."_

He'd stormed in the front doors, signed in, and went straight for the library. He had a few books he wanted to read, and it was too noisy at home to concentrate.

He cussed, though, when the huge building came into view. Martin Finch, a senior, was leaning against the door. Blaine had subtly rolled his eyes – the boy's perfect hair, perfect blazer and Warbler pin on his lapel made Blaine want to be sick.

The boy stepped up when Blaine got closer, blocking the door easily. Although he was skinny, he was muscled, and strong. He was the leader of the Dalton Rancher fight club.

"Excuse me," Blaine had said quietly. Martin had smiled, but stayed firmly in his place.

"Give me that solo and I will."

Blaine rolled his eyes again. Martin had hated Blaine ever since he beat him out for a solo for the Warblers on his third day here. "What! A freshman versus a senior and the little newt wins? This is blasphemy!" Martin had declared in his fake British accent. Everyone knew he wasn't actually British, but it made all the girls from Crawford swoon so he kept up the act.

"Not a chance," Blaine said, trying to push past. "Move."

"What's the password?" Martin had aid, in a way you'd expect a fifth-grader to. "How about… homo?"

Blaine had gritted his teeth and tried to push past again. Martin shoved him back. "Faggot? Princess?"

"Get out of my way," Blaine said through his teeth. "Please."

Martin just laughed. "No."

Then Blaine had lost it. He threw his books down and lunged at the boy, pinning him to the heavy door with his forearm. Martin held his hands up and Blaine saw the unfamiliar flicker of fear in the taller boys' eyes – he felt a swell of pride.

"Alright, alright," he'd said, swallowing. "Can you get off me now, darling?"

Blaine raised his fist and was about to punch Martin in the nose, but his English teacher walked around the corner before he could. "Blaine Anderson!" she screeched. Blaine didn't flinch, and kept his fist raised. Mrs Morrow rushed over to them and put her hand on Blaine's shoulder, pulling sharply.

"Get off him!" she exclaimed. Blaine had shrugged her off harshly and stepped back. Martin swallowed.

"I-I was just walking out and he attacked me," he stammered. Mrs Morrow narrowed her eyes.

"I highly doubt that was the case, Mr Finch," she'd said. "You're both going to the headmaster. Come on, let's go."

When they arrived, Mr Larken, the headmaster, rolled his eyes. "What happened this time?"

"I found these two fighting outside the library," Mrs Morrow said, straightening her glasses. "Blaine had Martin up against the door, and he was about to hit him."

"He was calling me names," Blaine pointed out. "And he wouldn't let me through."

"Bull!" Martin protested. "I was just walking out of the library and Blaine attacked me!"

"That's not tr-!"

"Enough," said Mr Larken, exasperated. "Whose father am I ringing first?" Martin pointed to Blaine, and the headmaster raised his eyebrows at him.

"Go ahead," he sighed. Mr Larken flicked through a book on his desk to find Blaine's number, which wasn't hard because it was at the front, and dialled it.

"Hello, Mr Anderson?" he'd said a few seconds later. "This is John Larken. There's been an incident between Blaine and another student- yes, again. No, I doubt it was entirely his fault. I'll leave it up to him to explain. Are you able to come and get him? Great. Thank you. Bye."

Blaine dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed again. Martin smirked.

"Your turn, Mr Finch," he'd said. "Go sit out in the foyer, Blaine, and think about your actions. You're not children anymore, you can't be acting like this."

Blaine had nodded once and walked out the door, letting it fall closed and slam a little. He sat down on the hard plastic chairs and tried to avoid the eyes of the office clerk who kept looking at him with a cold, hard stare. She didn't like him, not one bit.

His dad arrived a good half-hour later, and stormed into the office with a face like thunder. Blaine winced just looking at it. Mr Anderson marched up to the office desk, signed Blaine out, and grabbed his wrist without a word. Blaine tried to break his hold but it was no use.

His dad had shoved him into the car roughly, and slammed the door. Blaine took a breath and braced himself, calmly putting his seatbelt on. Then the driver's side door opened and his dad got in. The door slammed.

"What the hell happened?" his dad spat, looking straight ahead.

Blaine inhaled. "He wouldn't let me into the lib-"

"Who?"

"Martin Finch. He wouldn't let me past. He kept calling me names, and I got angry-"

"Is that going to be your excuse for everything, Blaine?" his dad growled, turning in his seat towards him. Blaine stayed facing the front, focusing on the little raindrops that had started to fall on the windows.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Can we go home now?"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, boy. You're an Anderson – you're making me look like an idiot every time this happens! Wait until your mother hears about this."

He shoved the keys in the ignition and roughly turned them – the old car chugged to life, and protested loudly as his dad slammed his foot on the accelerator and sped out of the parking lot.

Blaine tried to tune out when his dad kept mumbling things about how much of a disappointment he was, and how he gave a bad name to the whole Anderson family. Blaine so badly wanted to make him stop the car, to get out and walk home, but he didn't. He just took it with no more than a tear on his cheek.

But when they pulled into the Anderson driveway his dad uttered something that made Blaine's heart shatter; "You couldn't be more of a disappointment to this family, boy."

He shouldn't have let it get to him so much. His dad was stupid, and mean, and more than likely half-drunk. But he felt numb as he got out of the car and went inside.

"I really am sorry, dad," he said. Mr Anderson shook his head.

"Your apologies mean nothing anymore. You keep insisting on doing this, Blaine! Why can't you just walk away and ignore him like any normal person would?"

"Because maybe I'm not normal," Blaine said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. His dad turned to him and his eyes were furious.

"Do not backtalk me," he said. "Or I'll slap your face."

"Go ahead!" Blaine said, raising his voice. "If it'd help you sleep at night, then go for it."

"You are this close to getting kicked out on your ass, Blaine Anderson!" his dad shouted, making a gesture with his fingers. Blaine narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you, dad, I really, am," he'd said. "But please keep in mind that you were the one that raised me-"

"Yeah? Well I wish I didn't!" his dad spat back. "I wish we'd gotten rid of you while we had the chance. You were nothing but a _mistake_."

"You still do have the chance to get rid of me!" Blaine had yelled. "Hurry up and do it already!"

"Trust me, I would if I damn could. But I'd get in a lot of trouble, and you're nowhere near worth spending even one night in a prison cell for!"

That'd brought Blaine up short. His dad's eyes were almost glowing with rage, his face red from yelling. Blaine blinked and a tear fell down his cheek.

"I-… it's nice to know what you really think, dad," he said, almost whispered, and turned and ran up the stairs. He should have gone right to his room and gotten his guitar. That always calmed him down. But instead, he walked into the bathroom and pulled up his blazer sleeve.

He shouldn't have picked up the razor, and dug it deep into his wrist.

He should've just stayed at home.

Xxxxxxxx

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered, tears threatening to overflow down his face. Wes stared at a spot on the floor absently, trying to take in the story. Blaine let out a shaky breath and wiped his nose.

"Blaine, why… why didn't you tell anyone?" Wes asked, his eyes not leaving the floor. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I-" Blaine didn't have an answer. Why didn't he go to anyone? He'd tried to talk to his mom, but most of the time she brushed him off like he was of no importance whatsoever. He couldn't go to his dad, obviously. His school didn't have a counsellor and he was too young to search for help himself without his parents being called. He felt silly trying to talk to a sophomore about it, like Wes or Thad or David, even though they were his friends. Cooper was busy with work and Maria. So Blaine kept it bottled up, letting it out only in song or sobbing when no one was home or, more recently, letting it wash away with the blood that ran down the sink.

"It's okay," Wes said, finally looking up at him. "We can talk later. "

Blaine nodded and sniffed. Wes gave him a sympathetic look.

"Can I ask what your father said that made you so upset?"

"H-he… told me I was worthless. That I meant nothing. I was an accident. That they should've gotten rid of me while they still had the chance. I y-yelled back and said that he still did have the chance, he could still get rid of me if he wanted, and he said that he'd get in trouble and I wasn't worth spending even one night in jail for."

Wes looked shocked. "And where was Cooper when this was going on?"

"He stayed at Maria's the night before," Blaine replied. Wes sat back in his seat.

"Blaine… you should have _told_ me."

Blaine closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said again. Wes sighed and put a hand on his own forehead.

Xxxxxxxx

_A/N; Kurt's coming next chapter, I promise! It should be up by tomorrow, or even the next day at the latest. I love hearing what you think, so don't forget to leave a review! :)_


	4. Kurt

"No! Carole, listen, I don't want to stay here one more night! I've spent way too long here. I just want to go _home_!"

"It's your own fault you're in here, Kurt! If you stopped hurting yourself and just _talked_ to someone we wouldn't have this problem!"

The voices roused Blaine from his sleep, and he frowned and rubbed his eyes groggily. It was just light enough in the room to see the clock, which read 7:40 in the afternoon, and Blaine groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

"I don't want to talk to anyone," the first voice said. It was a high, somewhat squeaky trill, but it belonged to a boy, no doubt. Blaine opened one eye and looked at the door. Just outside, a woman in her late thirties and a boy - who looked no older than seventeen - stood there, and they were arguing. The woman looked exasperated, and the teenager looked annoyed. They both had their arms crossed, and Blaine saw that the boys' right hand and forearm were bandaged.

Blaine stared. He was beautiful.

"You need to," the woman said. The boy rolled his eyes.

"I am perfectly fine all on my own, Carole," he said. The woman addressed as Carole clasped her hands together.

"Kurt, please," she begged. "Just have one more night, just until the doctors let you go. You're not allowed to discharge yourself, anyway."

"Am too," Kurt said.

"You're sixteen," Carole pointed out. Kurt huffed.

"But _Carole-"_

"Excuse me?" Cooper's voice said from behind Blaine. He jumped – he hadn't realized Cooper was there. It took him a second to realize that the chair had been moved.

Kurt and Carole stopped bickering and looked into the room. Kurt's eyes zeroed in on Blaine's.

"My little brother's trying to sleep," Cooper said matter-of-factly. "Could you please take your argument elsewhere?"

"Of course," Carole said apologetically. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," Kurt said, not taking his eyes off Blaine's. Blaine saw his eyes were a dark blue-green colour, and he was mesmerized.

"Thank you," Cooper said, and there was the sound of paper rustling. A magazine, probably. Blaine was too fixated to check.

"Off you go, Kurt," Carole said, giving him a little push. Kurt tripped a little, turned and walked in the opposite direction, but not before turning and looking at the boy in the hospital bed one more time. Blaine thought he saw a smile twitch at the edge of his lips, but he was gone before he could really be sure.

"You're welcome," Cooper said after a few minutes of utter silence. Blaine rolled over and saw his sitting cross-legged in the chair, reading a newspaper.

"Oh y-yeah, thanks," Blaine said. Cooper frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm… who was that?" Blaine asked, blindly reaching for his remote and accidentally knocking a glass of water over by accident. Cooper simply pushed a button that read 'ASSISTANCE' on the wall, and seconds later one of Blaine's nurses was in to clean up the mess.

"Kurt, by the sounds of it," Cooper replied. "Or do you mean the lady? I think her name was Carole-"

"No, I meant the boy," Blaine said. Cooper raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he said, somewhat accusingly. Blaine found his remote and lifted the top half of the bed up.

"He looks familiar," he mumbled. Cooper smirked.

Xxxxxxxx

"Can I get up?"

Cooper shrugged and kept his eyes glued to the TV. Simba was crying, snuggling into his father who lay on the ground dead. Blaine loved _The Lion King_, but he'd seen it so many times he knew it backwards. Cooper, however, could watch it over and over and never get sick of it.

"Seriously, Cooper, my legs are cramping up."

"You got up to have a shower earlier. Shush."

"Yeah, but that was like three hours ago. I want to go for a proper walk, like, outside."

"Shush!"

Blaine sighed. He didn't mind sitting in a hospital bed – although the food was terrible, the drinks were warm and the television was meticulously repetitive, it wasn't so bad. The real reason he wanted to get out of bed was so he could go find that boy, the one with the eyes. Kurt.

That name had been playing around in his mind for three days, ever since he first saw him outside his door. He was wearing skinny jeans and a plaid shirt that looked way too out of place in the hospital, but his feet were bare and his hair had obviously been previously coiffed, but had ruined due to lying down. That woman, Carole, had said something about hurting himself. Was Kurt a self-harmer, too? Or was he one of those daredevil stunt people that got their kicks by jumping off bridges or trying to skateboard up trees? He didn't look like one of those people.

"Damnit, Scar." Cooper's sob broke Blaine out of his reverie. He raised an eyebrow at his brother, who looked sideways at him and wiped his eyes. "Shut up. You cried during _Titanic_."

"Who didn't?" Blaine scoffed. Cooper tried to find an argument, but failed.

"We speak of this to no one," he said. Blaine winked at him.

Just then a nurse walked in with a clipboard. "Hello, boys," she said cheerily. Blaine liked this one – she was pretty, with long black hair and eyes that changed colour; one day they'd be deep chocolate brown, another they'd be piercing honey-golden that reminded him a lot of his own. She was cheerful with a pretty smile, and she always brought Blaine ice-cream even when she'd been told not to. Her name was Sophie.

"Hey," Blaine greeted her. Cooper waved briefly and went back to the movie.

"Is he okay?" Sophie asked, pointing to Cooper with her pen. Blaine brushed him off.

"Come to give me good news?" he asked. Sophie grinned.

"The doctors said you're doing really well. You can get your drip out today, and you can go home tomorrow if you're feeling well enough."

"Finally!" Blaine said. Sophie laughed. Cooper coughed to cover up a sob.

_A/N; I should really start making these chapters longer. Anyway, you guys wanted to meet Kurt so there you go. Sorry if he didn't come in the way you wanted him to. He's probably gonna be a little OOC at the beginning of this, because I really, really love bitchy!Kurt. Review and tell me what you think :) _


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